


Violence on our Shore

by Elie



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon What Canon?, Don't copy to another site, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Feels, Vomiting, Werewolves, there isnt really any romance its just mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 06:19:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18959599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elie/pseuds/Elie
Summary: Hamish gets hurt again, only this time it's much more serious.





	Violence on our Shore

**Author's Note:**

> so.. i feel they kinda healed hamish a bit too easily.. and i love hurt/comfort and found families.. so here we are

Once Randall answers the call, it’s almost like deja-vu. It feels like he’s had this exact conversation before.

"Hey, dude-"

“They’re hunting me,” Hamish rasps. His breath is heavy and his voice is filled with obvious pain. “They got me, again, just straight up stabbed me with that stupid knife. I hope you have some left over of that green stuff you made last time.” 

For a gravely injured wolf, Hamish for sure manages to talk a lot.

They don’t have anything left of the so-called green stuff Hamish is talking about. The last few months haven’t been easy exactly, The Order has been more aggressive than ever. All kinds of evil have been crawling around. 

He moves to the living room, where he knows both Lilith and Jack both are supposed to studying for their exams.

“Think we used the last of it when Jack got nicked the other night. We can always make some more, though” he answers when the silence lasts too long. He can’t listen to Hamish’s breaths coming in sharp pained bursts anymore. 

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you, the others can make the magic goo,” he asks. It grabs Lilith and Jack’s attention, and they both look up from where they are hunched over their books. Worry makes their way to both of their faces. It would be adorable if he didn’t have the sound of Hamish dying filling his ear.

“At the library, in a broom closet, like last time” Hamish gasps. Randall doesn’t remember anything about a broom closet last time, but that’s not what’s important right now anyway. “Don’t think I can make it out alone. Don’t know if they used more stuff or if it hit something more vital-” Hamish continues. Randall wonders if there is a more vital place than the freaking stomach but okay. “It might be a different poison. It's working way faster,” the older wolf sounds out of breath once he finishes talking.

“Ok, I’ll be there, we’ll get whoever did this,” Randall assures him. He listens as Hamish takes some unsteady breaths before answering.

“T-thanks,” he stutters out. The fact that he isn’t fighting about Randall coming to get him his worrying enough, and now a thank you? Jesus, that’s bad with a capital B, and probably an A and D too. 

When he puts the phone back into his pocket, Lilith and Jack are already standing, books forgotten on the floor.

“Hamish’ hurt, we used up all the green medical stuff - you guys need to make some more. I gotta go, he’s hiding at the library. It sounded like it was bad," Randall explains. He then grabs his jacket from where he had thrown it over a chair earlier today.

“I’ll come with you,” both of the younger wolves say at the same time. When Randall turns to look at them, they are staring each other down. They know at least one of them needs to stay behind and make it.

“I told Hamish the both of you would be working on the soup thingy,” he tells them. Lilith scowls at him. 

“You only need one person to do it, we all know how to-” she starts, 

“I don’t! I wasn’t here when you guys did it the first time,” Jack argues, interrupting her.

“You’re the magic expert! You can read a recipe can’t you?” Lilith says, and jeez - they do not have time for this.

“Did y’all miss it when I said Hamish sounded really bad? I think this might be worse than last time!” Ok, he doesn’t think it is, he knows it is, but he doesn’t want to worry the other two too much either. He is the one that has to deal with them after all. He’s already moving towards the door, he can hear shuffling behind him, are the two idiots actually fighting about this? 

Someone runs up to his side as he throws the door open. Lilith is standing there, looking him in the eye. “Jack is making the recipe,” she states. Randall can’t be bothered to ask how they decided that. 

-

The run to the library seems longer than ever before, even if it only takes them ten minutes when running.

“He’s going to be okay right? We aren’t going to find him like.. dead, or something?” Lilith asks as they climb the old marble stairs to the library entry. Randall does not wanna think about how shivery her voice sounds. 

“No, Hamish’ strong, he’ll be fine,” he assures her as they walk through the wooden double doors.

“So where is he?” she asks and looks around. They’ll have to be on their guard. There might be more hunters out there, he had forgotten to ask Hamish what had actually happened. He had assumed it was the Order since Hamish had said someone was haunting him again.

“Hum, I think he said he was in a broom closet,” Randall answers and fumbles to find his phone, “I’ll try calling him.” Lilith nods, and they start making their way through the library hall. There aren’t too many people there, thank god, but it’s not so surprising considering it's getting late. 

He unlocks his phone and finds Hamish number in his newly called list. He quickly hits the dial button and puts the phone to his ear. It rings and rings but no one picks up. “Come on man,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone. Lilith is biting her lip, shooting him glances as they walk down the hall. 

“I hear something,” she says and he follows her to a small passageway in the library. He’s not too familiar with it, it’s a rarely used wing - the stools aren’t as good there and neither is the ventilation. The ringtone is still beeping in his ear and he knows he’s gonna be put sat over to voicemail soon and - is that 500 miles playing? 

The song that Randall, as a joke, forever ago, put as his special ringtone on Hamish’ phone. The older man had been stupid enough to leave it unlocked the living room, where Randall so happened to be sitting. 

It’s coming from a door not too far down the hallway and Randall is grateful there is no one else there besides the two of them. 

He gets sent to voicemail, and he hangs up before the beep. Lilith has her hand on the doorknob and she looks scared. Her eyes are wide, and her face filled with uncertainty. Maybe, like him, she fears what they might find. He nods to her and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. They are still working out what they are, how they work. It’s been.. kind of wild lately. 

The door swings open. Hamish is sitting there, his dapper vest open and smeared with blood, and so is his light blue shirt. His jacket is on the floor on his right and his phone is laid beside it. The screen is still lit up and Randall can see bloody fingerprints on it. Oh. 

“Hey guys,” Hamish gurgles as he looks up at them, a loopy smile on his face, “you came,” he continues. He sounds relieved.

“Of course we came, hamster,” Randall says as he kneels down beside him to get a look on the wound. It looks worse than the other one had. It's deeper, redder, and slightly higher up. It stinks even more too. He wrinkles his nose.

“Sorry I could’n ans’r the phone, sl’ppy fingers,” Hamish mumbles. The words don't sound quite right coming out of the usually delicate spoken man. 

“We need to get him out of here now, and to Jack, that looks - that looks really bad,” Lilith says. Randall is already shrugging off his own jacket. They’ll need to cover up the blood. It’s not like they can walk unnoticed through the library while supporting a bleeding Hamish. 

“Help me put this on him,” he pushes Lilith with his elbow to get her attention. Her eyes are locked, staring at the bleeding wound in Hamish’ stomach. One of his hands is laid sloppy and limp over it. It seems to be a try to stop the bleeding, but it looks like the pressure is too weak to do any good.

Together they manage to sit Hamish up, even if both of them have to support him so he doesn't lean over to the side. He has the energy to help them when they drag the jacket over his shoulders. The pained noises he makes feel like needles to Randall’s skin, he doubts it’s any easier for Lilith. Hamish is acting too lethargic for Randall’s liking as he zips the zipper up to cover the wound completely. 

“Ok, we each take one side, we get him up on his feet and we take the back door out. We’re on the first floor, it will be okay,” Randall looks at Lilith as he informs her about the plan. He's not sure if he is trying to assure himself or the other two that it will be alright. 

Lilith grabs Hamish’ phone and puts in her pocket. She also takes his stupid dress jacket and drapes it over her arm. She catches Randall's eyes as they swing Hamish' arms over their shoulders.

“On the count of three,” Lilith says. Randall nods and Hamish, well, he hangs in there. They can’t ask much more of him.

“One, two,” they all take a preparing breath, “three-”. Hamish isn’t the lightest dude, but they are all superpowered wolves. Lifting Hamish up from the floor goes easy. Getting him to stand on his own two feet? Not that easy. Hamish is taller than both of them and sways dangerously as he tries to stand on his own to feet. 

“I’m-” Hamish stutters as he leans forward in their grasp, not finishing his sentence. The only reason he’s staying upright is Lilith’ and Randall’s death grip on his arms. Hamish opens his mouth to speak and-

“I’m gonna be sick,” is all the warning they get before Hamish his throwing up all over Randall’s shoes.

“Ew dude,” Randall says, “as if the room didn’t stink enough already.” He stares up on at the roof, he'd rather not see what Hamish' lunch looks when halfway digested. 

Hamish goes if possible even more slack in their grip. 

“Randall, look - it, there’s... That's blood,” Lilith whisper-yells. Randall forces himself to look down at his poor shoes and the floor, and oh - yeah, that's very red. That's blood. That's also very very bad. People, even werewolves, are not supposed to be throwing up blood. They aren’t supposed to be stabbed by magical weapons either but, you know, that’s kind of a risk they take. 

“We need to get out of here, now,” Randall says, and can't keep the alarm out of his voice. He hoists Hamish a little bit more up so he won’t slip out of his grasp.

“Ready to go, big guy?” Lilith asks, shaking Hamish a little to get his attention. They get a small nod from him, and a grimace they don’t know how to interpret. That's gotta be good enough for now. 

They are more dragging Hamish between them than helping him walk. He tries to take steps but they are weak and he stumbles more than he supports himself.

“Last time he managed to walk all the way home by himself, what the hell did they put on that blade this time?” Lilith asks. Randall sees that even with their enhanced strength it’s straining for Lilith to carry Hamish between them like this. He's not surprised, he can feel the sweat trickling down his own back. 

"I have no idea, the faster we get him to home and to Jack the better," is all he can say. There's a voice in the back of his head that wants to add that Hamish might not even make it that far. The older is looking worse by the second, as they make their way towards the back door. It's going too slow.

They are lucky and meet only one very confused student on their way. “Had a bit much to drink last night,” Randall jokes as the guy stares at them. He sees how the strangers eyes turn to show both amusement and pity as they drag Hamish past him. 

They decide on taking the shortcut from behind the library through the woods. Halfway home Hamish goes completely slack in their arms, and they almost tumble to the ground as he does. 

“Oh my-, shit shit shit,” Lilith says as they lower him to the forest floor. Randall cradles Hamish' head with his hand as they do, careful not to hurt him any more than he already is. His hands are shaking as he goes to find the pulse point on Hamish’ neck. The oldest of them are too pale, and the blood has seeped through Randall’s jacket in a grotesque way. That’s gonna be a bitch to clean. 

Relief fills him as he feels the faint beating of Hamish’ pulse under his two fingers. One look at Hamish' chest and he can see the rise and fall off his chest. 

“I’ll carry him on my back, that’s easier now he’s out than us dragging him between us. We aren’t too far from home,” Randall says and Lilith doesn’t try to protest. Perhaps it’s progress, or it’s only because both of them being too afraid to argue right now. 

“You need to help me get him up,” he says, and Lilith nods as an answer. She reaches out and grabs Hamish' arm. Together they manage to get him onto Randall’s back. Why does Hamish have to be so tall? It’s clumsy and slow, and Randall is almost glad Hamish is out cold because if not he would be hurting a lot. Randall can already feel how Hamish' blood is staining his t-shirt. It's combing with his sweat and making the shirt stick uncomfortably to his back. 

Hamish labored breaths are almost comforting on his neck, it's nice to know he's alive. Lilith walks two steps behind them to make sure their alpha doesn’t slip off Randall’s back. They must look like an odd trio.

Somehow they make it to the house without any slip-ups. They stumble up the stairs to the front door and then through it. Jack must have heard them coming because he comes running, meeting them in the hallway.

“Hey did you - holy crap, is he-” Jack's mouth hangs open as he freezes at the sight of them. “He’s alive,” Lilith says through gritted teeth. Jack nods, and his brows furrow in worry. It almost looks like he wants to reach out to them, his fingers twitch, but then he doesn't.

“Get him to the couch,” the youngest says instead. Randall carries Hamish into the living room. Together they wrangle Hamish down from Randall's back, and to a somewhat sitting upright position on the couch. The oldest' head is leaned over the backrest. Hamish' face is scrunched up; he’s in pain even when unconscious. 

“The remedy is almost done, it needs like six more minutes of cooking,” Jack says as he turns to stir in the pot on the table. It looks like the one they made those few months ago, a small relief. Then again, last time Hamish had been awake and looked so much better than he does now. 

“He’s really hot,” Lilith notes as she puts a hand on Hamish’ forehead.

“Hey, if I’m not the wolf you want here-,” Randall tries to joke, but Lilith gives him a stare so harsh he stops mid-sentence. Ok, bad timing. 

Without another word, Lilith gets up and walks through the door to the kitchen. Randall has to tighten his grip on Hamish so he won’t fall to the side now that Lilith isn’t there to support him. She emerges not much later with a wet towel in her hand. She puts it over Hamish’ forehead as she sits back down at the same place on the couch. There’s blood on Hamish's lips, and Lilith wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. It doesn't seem like she cares that it dirties her clothing.

Randall bites his lip. It worries him that Hamish hasn’t been conscious since they were walking through the forest. 

“How long has he been out?” Jack asks as if he’s read Randall's thoughts.

“Too long, since we were halfway through the forest. We were walking, dragging him along really, - he just went limp,” Randall explains. Jack nods, clear blue eyes staring at Hamish’ limp form.

“Isn’t it done yet?” Lilith asks, frustration clear in her voice. She's holding Hamish' limp hand in her own, so hard her own knuckles are white. 

“Two more minutes, it needs to be finished for it to work,” Jack says like they haven't made it themselves not too long ago. His voice is calm, but Randall can still pick up the emotion in it. 

A minute ticks by, too slow. 

Hamish groans. His eyes blink open, but he leaves them halfway there. 

“Hurts,” he whispers, before biting his lip. Randall doesn’t think Hamish is really there with them or that he’s even aware of why he’s hurting. Randall puts a hand on his shoulder and tries to give the older a comforting squeeze. 

“We’re gonna fix you right up, just breath,” Lilith says, still holding on to Hamish' hand. It’s another deja-vu for Randall, the only difference is that Jack is there with them now. 

“It’s done! ” Jack finally exclaims, already grabbing a leaf and spreading the green goo over it. Randall zips down the jacket, his jacket, now filled with Hamish’s blood, and pushes away the bloodied vest. He has to lift up the patterned shirt too, this time Hamish doesn’t have the power to hold it up himself. It's probably the clothing item Hamish is wearing that looks the worst. It's got a mangled hole from the knife and the bright material is filled with blood.

The wound.. it looks really bad. It’s an irritated red, and the green infection in the middle of it looks even more disgusting than before. There are black veins reaching out, under Hamish' feverish skin, from the wound. They weren’t there when they had been sat like this last time. Randall doesn't like the way they seem to be reaching for Hamish' heart. 

Jack’s breath hitches at the sight and most likely the smell, but he still continues putting the goo over the wound. They all breath a sigh of relief when it looks to be working. The green folding in on itself, the red not as irritated.

But then it stops. The veins, they are so close to Hamish' heart. 

“What, why isn’t it-” Jack begins, and Randall wishes his eyes were betraying him because he is looking, staring, at Hamish’ chest and... It's not- it isn’t moving. Hamish' eyes are unfocused and half open when Randall looks at his face.

“He’s not breathing,” he says. It comes out airy, it doesn't sound real in his own ears. Both Lilith’s and Jack’s eyes, before so focused on the wound, go to Randall.

“We need to get him on the floor! He’s not breathing!” Randal is yelling now. The reality of the situation, what is happening, hitting him. Jack moves the quickest of them. He manages to push the table far enough away to make room. None of them cares when a bottle of whatever falls off said table and breaks on the floor. Lilith seems almost frozen in her spot as Jack scoops Hamish’ still body into his arms and lays him on the carpet. 

“Get Alyssa over here,” Randall says, commands, at Jack. He knows that Alyssa and Jack are in a rough spot but this is Hamish. Alyssa will know how to heal him. 

“He’s still got a pulse, maybe we need more goo-” Jack says as Randal sits down on his knees by Hamish side. He rests his hands on the floor. He knows this, he’s pre-med. He's taken first aid classes too. 

“Get Alyssa the fuck over!” Lilith yells, finally unfrozen from her spot. She has moved from the couch and is shoveling goo onto the green paper to put on Hamish’ wound.

Jack looks at them for a second, then at Hamish and nods. He whips his phone out without any more arguments. Randall can see that Jack's hands are shaking as he tries to find Alyssa's number. 

Randall lets his focus slip back to Hamish. He double-checks that what he thinks is happening in fact is. That Hamish for real isn’t breathing. Puts a hand over his nose and mouth and - there’s nothing. No warm air hitting his palm. Shit. Lilith is still spreading the goo over Hamish' bare stomach. 

Randall tries to remember how they did it on the practice doll. Pinch the nose, lift the chin, clear airways. He breaths for Hamish and watches as his bloody chest goes up and down and falls still again. 

In the back he can hear Jack talking, it has to be with Alyssa. He then disappears out of the room to do god knows what. Lilith is mumbling something, which may be profanities, through angry tears. Randall can only focus on his task. Hamish isn’t breathing, he’s fading, this can’t happen now. Not like this. They had saved him! Gotten him home!

He breaths again, he doesn’t quite remember how long he has wait between each. He isn’t sure if he is supposed to be doing chest compressions either, when just now Hamish had a pulse. 

Then Jack is by his side again, there’s stuff, supplies, in his arms. Herbs and little vials and a bowl. 

“Alyssa is on her way, I think we have to try and give him this,” Jack says and Randall looks at him. He’s holding a vial with a clear liquid in it, and he’s putting it in a mortar and squishing something else in with it. Randall doesn't care, as long as it works. 

“How’s he supposed to swallow, he isn’t even, he’s not-” his words don’t want to work, as he tries to explain his doubts to Jack. 

“T-there's no pulse,” Lilith has Hamish’ wrist in her hand, and her wide eyes are staring at them both. Crap. Randall moves, his heart beating faster than ever, and starts doing compressions. He thinks of that stupid song, staying alive, as he pushes on. Counts the amount he is supposed to and watches as Lilith tries to scoop goo onto the wound like that's going to help. Somehow the black veins seem to have worked their way even closer to Hamish’ heart.

“Why isn’t it working?!” Lilith yells, in desperation and frustration. 

“They must have used something stronger than last time,” he can hear Jack say in the background as he moves to breathe for Hamish once again.

“Someone lift his head up, we have to make sure he swallows it,” Jack says. He’s holding the mortar in one hand, there is a liquid with a touch of green in it from whatever herb Jack has used in it. Randall nods, and he carefully holds Hamish’ head as Jack pours the liquid into his mouth. Some of it misses the mouth, and runs down Hamish' chin and mixes with the blood already there. 

“Are you sure we aren’t choking him?” Randall asks, because - pre-med. He doesn't want to be responsible for making things worse. He's scared of Hamish coming alive again only to choke on some weird herbal mix. 

Jack doesn’t answer. It doesn't help with Randall's anxiety. 

They wait. Half a minute. Oh god. They’re gonna lose him- how are they supposed to work, how-

Hamish gasps. His eyes fly open. The wound is still there, angry and stinky, but the black lines have stopped moving. 

His face is filled with agony, an expression Randall has never seen on his face before. He’s coughing and blood is spraying out of his mouth, it isn’t pretty. Not at all. Randall is supporting Hamish, holding him up, as his back curls with the force of the coughs. 

Lilith grabs Hamish hand, “you’re going to be okay, breath, it’s going to be fine,” she says, like a mantra. Randall catches Jack’s eyes over Hamish back. Their alpha isn’t out of the woods yet. 

They move Hamish from the floor and onto the couch again, he and Jack take one arm each and lays him down. Hamish's shivering, even if the room is warm and the weather isn’t cold. Lilith manages to find a blanket and puts it over him. Randall sits on his knees on the floor, monitoring Hamish’ breathing. He’s terrified, he realizes, of losing Hamish. Terrified of the possibility of his breathing stopping again. 

Alyssa enters like a whirlwind into the living room. There is a spellbook in her hand, and her hair looks wild. Like she ran here. Randall wonders what Jack had told her to make her appear so soon.

“Is he..” she starts. “He’s breathing, for now, we managed to stop the poison for now, but it’s still hurting him,” Jack explains as he leads her over. It’s awkward, because how is it not, as Lilith moves to give Alyssa room. Randall refuses to move from his position though, he has to be there. 

“C-can you make it stop?” Hamish asks form the couch, none of them had realized how lucid he was. “It - It hurts so bad, please make it stop,” he sounds close to crying and so so young. It’s easy to forget that Hamish is only a couple of years older than them. Now it is all too clear. He's hurt and feverish and completely out of it. There is no way he knows what actually is going on.

“You’re going to be alright,” Jack says, putting a comforting hand on Hamish's shoulder. There are tears trailing down Hamish's chin. Fuck. Randall tries to catch Hamish' eyes, to somehow ground him, but they are too hazy and flailing around in panic. 

“Alyssa, can you just please do your stuff?” he asks because he can’t sit here and look at Hamish in so much pain for much longer. He can’t keep the quiver out of his voice. Hamish is supposed to be the strong one, the one who knows what to do. He isn’t supposed to lay like this, every move hurting him, and poison slowing killing him.

“Okay okay, you guys are lucky we learned about medical healing because a recruit set himself on fire a few days ago,” Alyssa says as she opens her book. She skims through the pages, Randall can see that she’s stressed even if she tries to hide it. Her fingers are tight around the book cover, and her mouth is in a straight line. She is doing them a huge favor right now, he knows that, but she needs to hurry up!

She finally finds what she wants, and moves to stand by Randall’s side. She puts a hand on Hamish’ forehead, no doubt feeling the warmth and the sweat. She frowns.

“This might hurt a lot, I - I'm sorry,” she says, he doesn't know if it's to Hamish or to the rest of them. She looks at them all again as if seeking for reassurance, or perhaps permission. They all nod. 

Randall grabs Hamish' hands, Jack and Lilith both put a comforting hand on both of Hamish’ legs. 

Alyssa starts chanting. Randall has no idea what the hell she’s saying, and at first, there is nothing. Then there is a really really horrible ringing in their ears and Hamish... Hamish is screaming. Jack and Lilith’s hands are no longer only for comfort, they are holding Hamish’ feet calm as he trashes in their grip. It's like he's desperate to escape. He acts like he's on fire, and Randall has to stand up to help hold him down so Alyssa can finish the god damn spell.

Hamish screaming sounds like.. like he’s dying. His throat already sounds raw, and tears are still running down his face. Randall wants to tell Alyssa to stop. To please stop, and ask if she can’t she see she’s hurting him even more?

But, one look at Hamish’ wound, and he doesn't. It’s not as red anymore, the green not so extreme. It’s helping. The ringing is making his head hurt, and he can’t begin to imagine how it must be for Hamish. It seems like forever, but he knows it’s only minutes before Alyssa finishes. 

Hamishes slumps down, eyes closed, breathing heavily - but still alive.

“The black veins are still there,” Randall says when he looks at Hamish’ pale stomach. It’s still full of blood, but the wound is all but gone. The black veins have retracted some, not as close to Hamish’ heart anymore, but he can still see them. Why aren't they gone?

“They’ll go away, give it some time. I can only do so much, he needs to rest, let his body heal and work its own magic. If they aren’t gone in three days time... Well, to be blunt, then I don’t know,” Alyssa says. Randall can see how her hands are shaking. There’s a drop of blood under her nose. 

Jack puts a hand on her shoulder, drawing her a little closer, and she lets him.

“He’ll feel pretty poorly until the wound and the black veins are gone. Most likely run a fever too, but I’m sure you guys can take care of him for that,” she continues. They all nod. Randall can feel how tired he is now when the adrenaline is starting to crash. The others look much the same as he is feeling.

“What did you do? You didn’t have time to explain the spell,” Jack asks, ever the one to want to learn. Lilith has settled on the couch, Hamish’ feet on her lap, and her arms are laid over them. 

“I, uhm, pretty much burned the poison out of him. It was the only thing I could figure out might work, especially on a werewolf. Most of our healing spells are made for humans,” she explains. She grabs her spell book where she threw it at the table earlier and puts it under her arm. 

“You didn’t know it would work?” Randall asks, and he can’t keep the anger out of his voice. That had been a huge risk. They could have made things worse, it could have killed Hamish! 

“If I hadn’t taken the risk, he would be pretty dead now,” Alyssa bites back. Her eyes aren't gentle and kind anymore, but narrow and glaring at him. “Had I not been able to get her as soon as I did, it would have been too late,” she continues, fire in her voice.

Randall nods, and he doesn’t answer her either because Hamish groans on the couch. He realizes he doesn't care, and lets the anger go. All he cares about is Hamish being okay. 

“I should go,” Alyssa says.

“Alyssa no, you can stay-” Jack tries, but Alyssa knows, “I don’t.. It wouldn’t be right, and I have other things to do,” she excuses.

“I, I can go with you. I mean, you didn’t have to do this, we owe you, I’ll follow you home,” Jack says but even Randall can see that he doesn’t want to leave. Can see how his eyes are flickering back to Hamish, before going back to Alyssa. Lilith looks like she will skin Jack alive if he actually dares to go. 

Alyssa shakes her head, “No, Jack, you should stay with your.. pack,” the word sounds weird coming from her. 

Jack doesn’t protest this time, and that says enough. They’re his family now. They are all he’s got, and they almost lost a very vital member of their pack today. 

They watch her leave, up until she closes the door gently behind her.

“All this drama for me?” Hamish whispers from the couch. His voice is almost gone from all the screaming he did while Alyssa was doing her spell. 

“You goddamn idiot,” Lilith says, but there’s no venom in her voice, only tears in her eyes which she dries away before they have the chance to escape.

“You owe me a jacket, dude, you got all your icky blood on it,” Randall says because humor is something he knows and emotions are not. Hamish smiles a little, and Randall’s heart hurts when he sees there’s still blood on his teeth. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Jack asks, and Hamish’ eyes move to meet their newest member’s ones.

“Hmm, getting stabbed by some stupid creature, hiding in a broom closet, uhm..” Hamish bites his lips while thinking, “calling Randall?” it’s more a question than a statement, and Randall nods as confirmation.

“It gets more blurry after that. You guys arriving, trying to walk, the forest?” Randall once again nods to confirm that Hamish is correct.

“Then I just remember.. pain, burning,” he says, and he winces as if recalling everything he’s felt today. “Not knowing where I was or what was happening, only that I wanted it to stop,” he voice trails off, becoming small. Randall doesn’t want to think about all the things “wanting it to stop” can mean. 

“Well, you scared us a lot man. If you wanted some attention you didn't have to go to such extremes,” Jack jokes. “We almost lost you, Randall had to.. bring you back,” the youngest' voice turns more serious. Hamish locks eyes with Randall, they look wide and scared. It's unfamiliar to see it in Hamish' eyes. It almost reminds him of something, of anger and hurt, but he can't remember when that was.

“I.. I died?” Hamish whispers.

“You stopped breathing, your heart stopped. Pretty sure that means you were a little dead,” Randall says, voice shaking even as he tries to come off careless.

“Oh,” is all Hamish says. He looks pale and shaky himself. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. 

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault,” Lilith says, sending their oldest a smile. 

The living room grows quiet, no one knows what to say but none of them wants to leave either. They are all basking in the utter relief of Hamish being awake, being okay. Speaking of Hamish, he's blinking, his eyelids taking longer and longer each time to open up. It looks like he is trying to force himself to be awake.

“You should get some sleep, you need to rest so your body can heal,” Randall says, trying to force a smile on his face. He pats Hamish' head because he doesn't know what to do with his hands and he has a yearning to be close.

“I’ll call and say you won’t be able to hold your classes in the morning,” Lilith says. Hamish almost looks like he wants to protest, eyes forced open and looking bloodshot. Lilith silences him before he even says anything with a stern look. 

“You’re on bedrest until any sign of that” she points at his stomach, “is gone.” It's clear that it is not up for discussion. 

Hamish nods, for once letting himself be coddled, maybe even he understands that's something he needs right now. 

“I’m stinky,” he whines though, with his eyes closed. Randall hears Jack snort.

“I think showering can wait for a little while, but we can try and clean some up some of that blood,” Lilith says, already getting up from the couch. Once again she goes into the kitchen and comes back with wet wash clothes. She puts one back on Hamish' forehead, after confirming that he still feels hot and is running a fever. The one from earlier had fallen to the floor under it all.

Jack sits down on the spot Lilith had vacated and lets Hamish put his feet in his lap. 

“Randall, maybe we can at least find him some clean clothes,” Lilith says. She's rubbing the washcloth with gentle movements over Hamish' stomach. Randall knows that with “we” she means “you”. If he is being honest he's happy to have a reason to leave the room. He feels like he is about to burst over with emotion, all the fear and anger he’s felt today simmering under his skin. 

He squeezes Hamish’ hand, no one comments anything on it and leaves to find some clothes in Hamish’ room. He climbs the stairs with a tiredness that feels like it comes from his very bones. He can barely bother to lift his feet as he shuffles over to Hamish' room.

It’s not that often he finds himself in the older werewolf’s room. It is, much like Hamish himself, kept in a pristine condition. There’s nothing thrown and left behind on the floor. A single book is laid on his nightstand. Hamish' bed is even made, his blue bedcover without a wrinkle. It makes Randall laugh. The laugh somehow turns into a very ugly sob, and then another, and another.

He lets himself crumble onto the bed. He grabs Hamish’ pillow and buries his face in it. It actually smells like the stupid cherry blossom shampoo Hamish insists on using. He had thrown quite the fit over it when Lilith had used the last of it one time. Randall doesn't care if he's getting snot and tears on the pillow, and that he is ruining Hamish' perfect bed. 

The door creaks and Randall thinks it’s Lilith who’s come to check on him. The bed dips with someone's weight, someone has sat down with him. When Randall finally moves his face from the pillow he sees that it’s Jack. The younger is sitting with his back towards Randall, staring at the bedroom wall. He's letting Randall have his privacy, let him pretend he hasn't been crying, while also not leaving him alone. He knew it right to bring Jack into the knights.

“Thank you, for calling Alyssa,” Randall forces out, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Of course, I..” Jack turns to face Randall. He looks like he is having trouble trying finding the right words, and Randall lets him take his time. Randall isn’t sure he would be able to say anything right now anyway without bursting into tears. 

“I would do anything for you guys,” Jack finally settles on. Gosh, as if Randall didn’t want to cry from before. 

“We.. we worked well, today, we saved him,” Jack continues, “for a second... I. thought..” his voice trails off and now it sounds like Jack is about to cry too. Randall doesn't have to guess what Jack was about to say. Randall had been having the same thoughts as Hamish had stopped breathing in front of them. He's not in any state to deal with any of those emotions, not his own and certainly not Jack's. 

Thankfully, Jack has better control off his emotions than Randall. He stands up and brushes his pants off like it’s his emotions he is letting fall to the floor instead of dust. Randall sits up too, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I guess we should find him some clothes,” Jack says, “do you think he has anything besides shirts and vests?” Jack moves towards the closet, as Randall pushes himself off the bed. He dries a tear from the corner of his eye and puts his best brave face on as he walks over to Jack.

He throws the door of the closet open and is met with ten different variations of vests and shirts. All too dapper and fancy for a sick-day in bed. He shuts the doors again and leans his shoulder on it.

"Does Hamish always keep his room so clean?" Jack asks as he moves over to the dresser. Randall watches him open the first draw, only to be met by woolen sweaters. 

"Think so, something about it representing his mind and body. I don't know, philosophy stuff," Randall tries to keep his voice natural as he answers. 

Jack laughs a little as he opens the other drawers. They have no luck until the very bottom one. Randall is actually surprised when he spots a pair of joggers and a red hoodie neatly folded into it. He thinks he can even see a pair of cozy and fuzzy socks. There’s a small smile on Jack’s face as he grabs the clothes, and it’s nice to see after the day they've had.

“Think these will work?” Jack asks, holding the clothes in his hands and turning towards Randall. Then he furrows his brows.

“What?” Randall asks.

“Do you... Do you think that we have to.. get him underwear?” Jack asks, and Randall can't help but let a laugh escape his lips at Jack's concerned face.

“No way man,” he responds, before taking the clothes out of Jack’s hands, “I think we’ll leave that for later.”

They don’t speak as they make their way downstairs again, but it’s not awkward - it’s comfortable. That kind of silence you can only have with someone who you really know. When you can just be. They don’t mention the little moment they had either when Jack first arrived upstairs.

When they walk into the living room, Lilith seems to be finishing up trying to get as much blood as possible off of Hamish. The washcloths all look drenched in blood and are stained a horrifying red color. Hamish himself is already looking better, still sickly but not as deathly pale as before. His eyes are closed, Randall isn’t able to see if he’s awake or not. 

“We actually found some comfy clothes, who knew he owned hoodies?” Randall exclaims as they make their way over. Lilith smiles a little at his joke, which he counts as a win, and gently shakes Hamish’ shoulder. He was asleep then. Randall almost feels bad about waking him up. Then again, Hamish will probably feel even better once he’s out of his bloodstained and sweaty clothes. 

“Hey bro, we're gonna get you out of these bloody clothes, okay?” Jack says, his voice soft, as he puts a hand on Hamish' shoulder. It's not a voice Randall hears Jack use a lot. The younger wolf likes his tough guy attitude, sometimes a little too much.

Hamish' eyes blink open, they are still looking feverish and hazy, and Jack helps him sit up. 

They practically have to do everything for Hamish. It seems the day has left him exhausted, not that he can be blamed - the guy almost died. Still, he had seemed so much better before they went up. But then again, the adrenaline has to crash at some point. 

Jack takes the bloody shirt off of him, leaving Hamish naked on top. Randall spots a small bandage that Lilith must have plastered over the wound. There’s still blood that she hasn’t managed to scrub off his skin surrounding it. 

Randall tugs the hoodie over Hamish' head, messing his hair up even more, and Jack helps him get the arms in the right place. 

None of them really wants to deal with his jeans, but - they have to. They too, are stained in red and aren’t exactly clothes practical for sleeping and healing. 

It’s Jack who moves first, who undoes the button. Hamish isn’t saying anything, not protesting as they manhandle him around. His eyes are slightly open though, so they know he's awake. They tug the pants off the ankles, and Randall pulls the joggers up to Hamish’ thighs. Thankfully Hamish then manages to take them up the last bit himself. Lilith busies herself with taking off Hamish shoes and socks. She replaces them with the fuzzy socks they had grabbed upstairs.

It seems the small tasks of getting dressed has left Hamish even more exhausted. What little energy he had left is gone now. He seems to be asleep before his face even hits the throw pillow on the couch. Lilith drapes a blanket over him, as he is still shivering a little. She brushes his bangs out of his face. The strands of hair have dried with blood and sweat in them, and are slightly curlier than usual.

“What a day, huh?” Lilith says as she sits on the armrest of the couch Hamish is laying on. It seems like she doesn't want to leave Hamish' side. Randall understands the feeling. He is tempted to sit down in front of the couch again and make sure Hamish is alright and breathing. He doesn’t know how to fix the feelings tormenting his insides.

“I guess there won’t be any cocktails tonight,” Jack notes. That Randall knows how to fix.

“No don’t say that; Hamish might have learned me a trick or two, or at least tried too,” he says, while forcing a smile onto his face. Both Jack and Lilith smiles back at him, looking slightly relieved that he is taking charge. His hands still shake when he moves over to the bar, to start on their drinks, but he ignores it. 

It's going to be alright, he knows it is. It has to be.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a blog; petersheart.tumblr.com if you want to come and yell with me about this stupid show that i cant stop rewatching 
> 
> i really appriciate kudos and comments, also i might write more of this but i guess we'll see


End file.
